Pretend
by Fitzfire
Summary: "Nothing scared the nightmares away like a line of glass to keep him up until morning." Shouto was on the road to ruin. Izuku knew this all along but still tried to slam his foot on the breaks. Instead, he hit the gas. Shouto loved him for it. He loved going fast. They were the best eight months of his life. They were his last.


Shouto met his murderer at a Community College just outside the city of Richmond.

The boy was a junior in high school gearing up for Harvard or Yale. He was one hundred percent sure of what he wanted and was already slogging through GenEds two years ahead to get there. Shouto was two years behind. If his old man had gotten his way, Shouto would have been tying up the loose ends of his sophomore year. He'd be on track for a double major in something legit and marketable. But that wasn't how it'd gone down. Now? He'd been thinking a lot about how it'd be nice to have an Associate Degree. How much it would help him get a job somewhere that wasn't Baskets and Robins.

The boy was hiding in the back with two other kids from his subdivision. At the time, Shouto had been too busy dealing with Bakugo's shit to notice the three high schoolers with bright futures. Bakugo had shown up high. The first day of classes, and he'd shot up. Shouto understood where he was coming from, but he'd be damned if he wasted the little bit of money he'd put toward something that mattered. He could wait an hour.

Shouto was tugging Bakugo between the desks when the high school boy tripped over himself and into Bakugo. The hot-blooded blonde didn't appreciate that. Seconds after Shouto had caught the boy, he'd been forced slam his heel down into Bakugo's foot to avoid a scene.

"Find two seats in the back," Shouto told Bakugo, hoping he'd listen.

Thank god it was weed and nothing else. As it was, Bakugo only growled and stalked away.

Shouto turned to the boy. "You good?"

The boy didn't respond, only stood there with wide eyes magnified by thick lenses. One glance told Shouto all he needed to know. Those glasses and messy head of badly dyed hair. The ugly green zip-up sweatshirt. He'd never touched alcohol in his life. He probably though the gages in Shouto's ears were the worst mistake he'd ever made.

So Shouto gave him the only piece of advice the boy would ever listen to. "Stay away from Bakugo."

"Oh…" the boy stepped backward, heat rising in his cheeks. "T-thanks."

Shouto ended the conversation with a cold shoulder. Did Bakugo do what he was told? He scanned the classroom. Right next to the window? Fine.

He let his hand run across the top of each empty desk.

Shouto didn't talk to him again until the end of the second week. Before then, he was just an ordinary looking kid. The one that sat between the two annoying, black-haired, high schoolers with a chronic case of raising their hands and answering questions right. He never figured out who the arrogant shits thought they were. Probably future doctors or lawyers or engineers.

Good for them. Shouto was having enough trouble figuring out how the four or five different parts of an introductory paragraph fit together. One sentence listing what you wanted to talk about wasn't enough. There was all this fucking around before you could get to the point.

They were supposed to be scribbling around on loose leaf and then trading papers. It was one of those activities where smart people got to tell everyone what a shit job they'd done. Shouto gave his to Bakugo, but the blonde didn't bother to look He just scribbled a red X on it.

"You're shit," Bakugo said.

"At least I'm mostly sober in class," Shouto said. Bakugo's paragraph fit together. It had a made-up quote at the beginning and everything. Shouto pushed it back to his roommate, not bothering to write anything down. Bakugo knew it was perfect.

He hated this.

When the professor handed back their introductory essay, he stared down at a barely passing grade. Bakugo waved his eighty-eight in Shouto's face before shoving it in his bag. A second later, prof waved his hand to signal the end of class. Everybody started shoving their shit in their bags.

"You got anything on you?" Shouto asked.

"You don't?"

Whiskey. That would cut it in a pinch but slowing it all down wasn't really his style.

"I forgot," Shouto said.

"Sucks to suck."

"At least give me a cig until we get back to the house."

"Fuck off," Bakugo said. "I paid for it."

It didn't matter. Tonight would be fun anyway. Jiro was having some of her friends over, and they loved to share.

"Get off my dick," Bakugo said, pushing out of his seat.

Shouto watched him go but didn't follow. He wanted another look at that essay. He held the sheet of computer paper up to the light, but it wasn't much use. No matter how hard he tried to focus, his eyes kept crossing, running the words into one another.

He really didn't want to fail this class.

At first, Shouto felt it instead of saw. Somebody was walking toward him. He flicked his eyes to the side. Bakugo wouldn't be hovering. He wouldn't wait a single second for someone's attention. Who was it?

That kid. The one with thick glasses and green eyes. Shouto leaned back in his chair, meeting those eyes. The boy was shifting around on his feet like he was planning to run at the first sign of trouble. He held his matching notebook, folder, and binder in front of his chest almost as a shield.

"Do you need something?" Shouto asked.

The boy looked away.

Shouto stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He didn't push past the boy. He waited. It looked like he had something to say, even if nothing was coming out of his mouth.

"Kid-"

"I'm not a kid!" the boy burst out.

Okay.

"Uh…I'm Izuku Midoryia," he said, almost too low to be audible.

"I'm Shouto Todoroki."

"I-I see," he said, voice cracking.

"You need something, Izuku?" Shouto asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Every second he spent here was another second, he was sober.

"I just…" The boy swallowed hard. "It's just…I thought that maybe if you were having trouble…"

"If I were stupid?" Was this boy trying to mock him?

"N-no!" Izuku cried. "…It's just that you look up and down a lot. In class, I mean..." His voice trailed off. "Plus, you didn't look like you were happy with your essay."

Shouto narrowed his eyes. Either the kid was observant, or he'd been watching Shouto. Either way, it was annoying he noticed. It still felt like he was being talked down to. "Your point?"

Izuku took a deep breath. "I thought I could help you. Maybe. Only if you wanted it!"

Shouto blinked.

Oh?

It was like that?

Shouto almost told him that, in Virginia, the age of consent was eighteen, and that he didn't fuck underaged guys. Those eyes, though. No, those eyes were too innocent. Maybe he did want sex, but he'd said exactly what he'd meant.

He was actually down to help Shouto with his essays.

Huh.

The guy did look smart, and his friends sounded it. This could be good for Shouto. If Izuku really was offering, there wasn't a reason to tell him no.

"That's fine," Shouto said.

Izuku sagged in relief.

"Do you have a when and where in mind?" Shouto asked, pulling out his phone. Fuck. Kiminari was blowing it up. Idiot really thought that if he texted Shouto enough times, he'd let the blonde pick through his stash. The guy reeked of desperation.

"Well, after class would make sense, right?"

"I got shit to do tonight," Shouto said, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

"Oh, I didn't mean today! Today's Friday after all." Izuku lifted himself on his tiptoes. "So…does Monday and Wednesday sound good?"

The next thing Shouto knew, it was Sunday afternoon. He woke up on the floor, a hammer pounding inside of his head and one hell of a crick in his neck. Delirious, he concentrated all his effort on forcing his vision to focus on a single point. He felt like puking. Where was the bathroom? Was this his house? Maybe?

He blinked a couple more times. Yes. This was his house. They were in Kiminari's room. They? Scattered around him were about five or six teenagers and twenty-somethings. Were they all breathing?

Where the hell was the bathroom?

He stumbled to his feet and tried to aim for the door. The air was heavy with the smell of weed and more. Maybe later. He had something to do today. Damned if he knew what it was, but there was something. Maybe after emptying his guts and taking something to lift his thoughts out of this sludge.

Bathroom?

There it was.

But when he pushed through the door, somebody else was already bent of the toilet.

"Move." Shouto tried to say, but it came out as more of a moan than a string of words.

"Can't," was the one-word answer, punctuated by a violent gagging noise. Shouto blinked against the fog. Was that Kirishima? Probably? He sure as hell wasn't going to lean down for a good look. If he saw the redhead's barf, his stomach would empty.

"Move." At least his voice was stronger that time.

"Can't," the redhead said again. He pointed at the shower.

"Fuck off," Shouto said. Was he really suggesting…

Probably Kirishima didn't lower his hand.

Could he make it to another bathroom in time? He braced his hand against his sloshing stomach. Not a good plan. Shouto wasn't even sure if he could find one.

If he still had pride, he'd have been swallowing it. As it was, he let himself fall to his knees and wrap his hands around the side of the tube. The heat that's been rising finally overwhelmed him. His insides flipped and sent stomach acid burning up his throat.

He only felt better for a second because then came the dry heaves.

The two boys struggled for air together as their bodies rebelled.

Fair was fair, so Kirishima finished first. His long hair hadn't fared well. Nobody had been there to hold it back. Shouto was always telling him to take a pair of scissors and hack it off, but he never listened. He'd say hairspray was enough.

"Shit man," Kirishima said.

Another minute and Shouto was able to gulp down a breath. He slammed back into the walls, knocking his head. "What?"

Kirishima grinned. "Crazy night, right?"

"I don't remember shit," he said, wiping bile away from the corner of his mouth.

"That's how you know it was good."

He wasn't wrong. Normally, Shouto would even agree, but he was forgetting something. He raised a hand up to his head. What was it? What was it?

"You good, man?"

"Yeah," Shouto said. "There's something though."

"Huh?"

"What day is it?"

"Sunday?"

Shouto closed his eyes, "I've got plans today, but I can't remember for what."

"A run for Dabi."

"I don't do that anymore." Not often, anyway.

"It's good money," Kirishima said.

"It's also super illegal." No way he was going to jail for dealing. Even Baskin and Robins with Mei was better than that.

"Got something with the class you and Bakugo are taking?"

"Sounds right," Shouto said. Fuck! His stomach wasn't done with him. He leaned over the tube again and threw up.

Kirishima came up behind him and laid a hand on his back. "I feel ya."

Shouto straightened up. "I think I have a paper."

"When?"

"Friday? I don't know."

"That's five days away."

Shouto shook his head. "No, I need to give it to this guy to look over. We are meeting on Monday, I think." He should find that out for sure.

"Some guy?"

Shouto nodded. "A guy in my English class said he would help."

"For what?"

"For nothing," Shouto said. "He didn't want anything."

Kirishima laughed.

"No," Shouto said. "This kid is nice. He might want to fuck, but he's seventeen so that isn't going to happen. He knows that." Shouto hoped he knew that.

Kirishima raised an eyebrow. "Is it one of the high schoolers Bakugo keeps going on about?"

"How should I know? I don't listen to that guy." Kirishima was the only one who did, and that was only because it got him laid.

"What's he look like?"

"Sweet. Weird green hair. Glasses. Like a good boy."

"Ah," Kirishima said. "Deku."

"His name isn't Deku. It's…" Shouto trailed off. "It's something that starts with an I. I have him in my phone, so I can check." He reached down to pull his phone out of his pocket, but there was no phone. There wasn't a pocket either. He looked down. No pants. Great.

"I'm going to take a nap," Shouto said.

"If you need a pick me up, I've got some speed stashed away. I don't think Kiminari's stolen it."

"I don't take that weak shit," Shouto said, pushing up on the wall to get to his feet.

Kirishima shrugged. "Whatever you say, man."

He'd managed to stop himself from snorting up too much crank that night. Because of that, when he woke up, he definitely felt more on the groggy side of conscious, but also somewhere close to a human person. He showed up to class a long way from high. Bakugo, on the other hand, was still high. He was always high. Now, that may be his business, but the insistent tapping of his foot was driving Shouto up the wall.

"If you don't stop, I'll chop a finger off while your sleeping," Shouto told him, voice as neutral as ever.

"Like to see you try."

When class ended, he watched for Izuku's friends to file out the door before getting up. Hanging out with the likes of Shouto didn't seem like the kind of thing those geniuses would approve of their dear friend doing.

But Izuku was already there standing beside him. The boy rocked back and forth, up and down, on his heels.

"Did you forget?" Izuku asked, a little bit of worry creeping into his voice.

Shouto looked up at him. "No."

The guy deflated with relief. Shouto wanted to tell him to relax, but the idea of him giving Izuku life advice was too absurd.

"Okay!" Izuku said, smiling. "Do you want to go to the library or…"

"Sounds fine."

Holy shit did Izuku know what he was doing. He ripped into Shouto's essay without delay. Shouto spent a full ten minutes blinking in confusion before it even occurred to him to try to understand. After mentally slapping himself, Shouto sat forward and did his best to absorb everything Izuku was telling him.

Now that he was listening, he realized Izuku was insanely good at explaining things on the second go-round. First time? Not so much. When Izuku started a new thought, his words jumbled themselves together in an incomprehensible and mess. Shouto learned to ask him to slow down because then Izuku took the time to sort through his mind. After that, his sentences would form slowly and clearly.

Shouto started waiting until Izuku finished rambling before he asked for the repeat. In all honesty, the guy was hilarious when he was running all these big words up against each other.

Shouto watched Izuku as his delicate fingers flew across the keyboard of his bulky laptop. One hand used the edit feature on Word to mark changes in red, the other scribbled color-coded notes, lists, and diagrams into a notebook.

"I don't get this," Shouto said, using the wireless mouse to scroll up to the top of the Word document. The cursor hovered over the introduction. "I don't have enough sentences, but I already said what I was going to talk about. I don't know what to add."

Izuku leaned forward, squinting, and then nodded. "Give me a second. I got something." He started flipping through the mess of papers before triumphantly pulling one out from the stack. He leaned over toward Shouto a set it down. "See…"

Shouto stared down at the page.

He launched into one of his long explanations. He went on about things like context, framing, and engaging the reader.

"That's too much," Shouto said. "I don't have enough words in my head for that."

"Everyone had words living inside of them," Izuku said, running his fingers across the page. "If anything, we have too many. That's why we write. To take all those thoughts and feelings and bring them into the world. How else can we make other people understand what we feel?"

"Maybe you do. I don't," Shouto told him.

Izuku laid a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, you do."

"Whatever you say." He wondered if Izuku could ever possibly understand him.

Izuku let his hand fall to the table, smiling softly. "That's all writing is, you know."

"What?"

"A message to another person."

And then he went on babbling again. Izuku didn't realize it, but he still too close. That hand was hovering at Shouto's elbow. Shouto didn't necessarily mind, but he didn't want to take advantage of the situation. He lifted a hand and slowly pushed the boy away.

Izuku looked confused at first but then flushed bright red. "I-I-I'm."

Shouto shook his head. "Don't worry."

Izuku hung his head. The boy was taking it like a rejection. That was fair, it was, but it still didn't sit right with Shouto. He reached out and brushed his fingers over the back of Izuku's hand. "Don't worry," he said again.

Izuku bit his lip, staring down at their two hands. When Shouto pulled away, Izuku's mouth opened in a silent O. And then Shouto couldn't help but acknowledge it. Izuku was absolutely fucking adorable.

A couple of strands of hair fell into Izuku's face. Shouto wanted to lift his other hand and tuck the lock behind his ear, but that would be a hell of a mixed signal. If he was going to be strong about anything, it probably should be this.

Shouto knew that Izuku shouldn't be seen with him. The boy and girl he whispered too had given both Shouto and Bakugo looks before, and they hadn't been kind ones. Better for them to meet somewhere out of sight.

He'd texted Izuku halfway through class, but Izuku hadn't responded. The best option he could see was to loiter in front of the library and hope Izuku's common sense led him there.

Then again, was it Izuku's common sense that led him?

He tried to be one of the first ones out the door, but the window seat was on the far side of the room. Whatever. He tried to slip in with the crowd.

But then a voice called him back.

"S-Shouto?"

It wasn't Bakugo. No, definitely Izuku. He looked back. The boy was still standing in the back, his two friends on either side.

Shouto couldn't just ignore him. Maybe stopping in the middle of the doorway was silly, but it didn't feel right to approach.

Izuku started shoving all of his notebooks and pencils in his bag. He looked up at Shouto again and then back down. "Give me a second." The black-haired girl was saying something to Izuku, but her tone was too low to make out. The black-haired boy was eyeing him, wary.

"I'll see you in the library." Shouto had no interest in mingling with those too.

"Don't worry about it!" Izuku said, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. He jogged up to be at Shouto's side. "I'm ready."

"Midoryia," said Izuku's female friend. She was skidding to a stop in front of Shouto too. "Weren't we going to grab ice-cream on the way home?"

"What?"

"Ice cream," the black-haired girl said.

Ice cream?

"Ice cream?" asked a male voice. Ah, the second friend was here now. Super.

Izuku's gaze darted from Shouto to his friends. "When was that set up?"

The girl glanced nervously at Shouto.

Oh. She was making it up because she didn't want her friend hanging out with him. Subtle.

"Who are you?" the guy asked, eyes intense behind his glasses.

So, they were doing this? Fine. "Todoroki Shouto," he said. "You?"

"Iida Tenya."

"Nice to meet you, Tenya." Tenya narrowed his eyes. So, he didn't like being called by his first name by the likes of him? Shouto thought as much.

Shouto didn't care much about holding Tenya's gaze, so he dropped it. "You guys go get vanilla ice cream if you want. I've got some work to do." Shouto considered pushing it, but he didn't want to start shit. These guys weren't worth it.

"I can't," Izuku said to his friend. He looked up at Shouto through thick eyelashes. "I set up plans with Shouto already."

Neither of them seemed happy about that.

"Nice meeting you," Shouto said, taking a step back. He was about to turn around when the girl spoke again.

"We have to do some homework too!"

Wow. And here he thought they were busy.

He glanced over at Izuku. It was his call. All Shouto needed was for someone to help him out. It didn't need to be this huge thing.

"Don't worry about it!" Izuku said, trying to smile. "I got this." The green haired guy reached out a hand and laid it on the girl's shoulder. "You guys go home. I'll see you tomorrow at school!"

"I don't understand why they made that up," Izuku told him.

Shouto looked up from his notebook. "You don't?"

"No."

Shouto looked back down at his paper, admiring the looping script in every color imaginable. "It's because I'm a bad influence."

"Bad what?"

"You know."

And after a second, Izuku did know.

"Why are you helping me?" Shouto asked.

"Helping? Uh…I thought it'd be the right thing to do!"

"What's the real reason?"

Izuku looked down. "I want to be your friend."

"No, you don't."

Izuku flushed bright red. "It is!"

"Really?" Shouto asked dryly.

"Yes!" he cried, staring him straight in the eye.

Had Shouto misjudged the situation that badly? Maybe he was just so used to everyone wanting a piece of his ass that he'd assumed a good boy would be in love with him instead.

Did that disappoint him?

"You just…" Izuku did look away then. "You looked very sad to me."

Shouto blinked.

"Sad?"

"Yeah…"

"I'm not sad."

"Well…" Izuku said. "That's what I thought back then."

"Do you still think that?"

When Izuku didn't speak for a long moment, Shouto knew the answer was yes.

"Maybe I am," Shouto said, gaze wandering. "But I know how to manage it."

"Do you?" Izuku asked.

Shouto threw out the most genuine smile he could muster. "Course."

Nothing scared the nightmares away like a line of glass to keep him up until morning.

The research paper had been a bitch, but Shouto smiled when he got his paper back. The score was B! A low B, but still a B! If he kept this up and turned in all the homework, he could pass! Shouto looked behind him, hoping to meet Izuku's eyes. The green-haired boy was staring down at his own paper, a small frown playing on his face. When he glanced up and found Shouto's eyes. His face lit up again. In that second, it was Shouto who'd made him happy.

"Did you do alright?" Shouto asked.

"Oh," Izuku said, looking down at his folder. "Sure."

"You looked upset."

Izuku sighed, pulling a stapled set of papers. One the front was a huge ninety-four.

"Is it because you didn't get one hundred?" Shouto asked.

"No," Izuku said, paging to the back few pages. "I used the wrong citation format."

"Huh?"

"I had another paper due the same night. I mixed up the citation format. Stupid mistake."

"Okay." Shouto thought for a moment. "Why are there are so many citation formats?"

"Because academics like the feel special. They make up their own orders for what's essentially the same thing."

Shouto raised a few fingers to his lips to stop a laugh from escape. "Why don't you make your own citing format? You're smart enough for it."

Izuku giggled. "I'll be sure to do that if I ever get the chance."

"What if someone accidentally makes a citation format that's the same as another?"

"Probably anarchy."

Shouto felt the corner of his lip turn up.

"Izuku," Shouto whispered.

Izuku jolted awake. "Wha?"

"You can't sleep in the library."

"I'm not!"

Shouto laid a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. "You just nodded off."

Izuku blinked his drooping eyelids. "Really?"

"How much sleep did you get last night."

"I didn't."

"None? Did you drink too much coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee?"

Shouto narrowed his eyes. "What about the night before?"

"How much sleep did _you_ get last night?"

"That's different."

"Why!"

"Because I used to stay up." Was he high? Maybe a little, but that was only because he hadn't hit the pillow in three days. His dreams were acting up again. If he didn't want to see his father, he had to stay awake.

"Used?" Izuku asked, confused.

Jesus Christ.

"Maybe we should take a break."

"No! I'm fine!"

"Don't worry," Shouto said. "We can run out and get something to eat." Did Izuku like ice cream. It was what his friends had tried to bribe him with. He figured it was as good a guess as any.

"You want to take me out?" Izuku asked. Great. He'd taken it the wrong way.

"You get ice cream with your friends, right?"

The boy blinked heavily eyelids several times, taking that extra moment to catch on.

Shouto gathered his things and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. He waited a moment for Izuku to dump all his belongings in his backpack before starting to walk.

"I'm still on probation," Izuku said. "I can't actually drive you."

"Don't worry," Shouto said. "We'll hop on my motorcycle."

"M-motorcycle?" Izuku squeaked.

"Is that a problem?"

"No!" Izuku raised a hand to the back of his neck. "I've just never ridden one before."

"Don't worry about it," Shouto said. "All you got to do is hold on."

Good thing this had been one of the days he'd brought a helmet. He wouldn't have felt right letting Izuku ride without one.

"Don't you need it?" Izuku asked, biting his lip.

"No," he said. "I'll be fine."

"Isn't it illegal?"

"Probably," Shouto said, turning the keys in the ignition. "Are you coming or not?"

"…okay," Izuku said.

Shouto threw a leg over his bike and then extended a hand to Izuku. The green-haired boy lifted himself up behind Shouto.

"Wrap your arms around me," Shouto said.

"What?"

"You'll fall off if you don't hold on."

Shouto felt Izuku's hands hesitantly coming around his middle. Slowly, they tightened around him until Izuku had his cheek pressed into his back. "I'm ready," but he didn't sound ready at all.

"Tap my chest if you want me to pull over." Shouto figured that might do something to put Izuku's heart at ease.

"Got it."

Shouto revved the engine.

As they pulled out of the community college parking lot, the tight hold became a vice grip. Shouto didn't mind it. In fact, he kind of liked that Izuku was clinging to him for dear life. Maybe part of his fucked-up mind liked feeling needed. Maybe he just enjoyed Izuku's touch. Regardless, he'd always tried to seize those little moments of satisfaction.

Izuku started balling his firsts into Shouto's shirt. Maybe he'd take Izuku out more often.

"Vanilla?" Shouto asked.

Izuku nodded.

This amused Shouto, immature as the connection was.

"A scoop of vanilla in a cone," Shouto told the women standing in the window, "and mint chocolate chip for me."

The women nodded without indicating much interest. She meandered over to the ice-cream tubes and started scooping flavors out into a cone.

"You don't have to pay," Izuku said shyly.

"Don't think about it." He doubted Izuku had a real job. It only seemed fair.

"And why didn't we stop at the Baskets and Robins?"

The real reason was that Shouto worked there, and he wanted to keep Izuku as far away from the other parts of his life as possible. He decided to lie, though. Saying so would defeat the whole purpose of coming here in the first place. "Ice cream's better here."

"Oh! I'll make sure to tell Iida and Yaoyorozu to come here from now on."

"Yaoyorozu?"

"The girl that comes to class with me."

"Right."

The women brought their cones to the window, handing them off to Izuku, and asked for payment. Shouto's eye lingered on the credit card his father had given him four years ago. He'd told Enji he hadn't wanted any of his money but hadn't thrown it away. When was the last time he'd used it? Curious, he offered it to the women.

She slid it into the card reader.

"Declined."

"No," Shouto said.

She turned the reader toward him.

"Try again."

She did.

"Declined."

Shouto stared.

"Do you want me to pay?" Izuku asked.

"I've got cash." He started rifling through his wallet and pulled out a few dollar bills.

She snatched the money and pushed the card back. Shouto's hand closed around the useless piece of plastic.

"Come on," he said, motioning for Izuku to follow him. Two ice cream cones in hand, the green-haired boy trailed in Shouto's wake.

Shouto slammed himself into a bench.

"Everything okay?" came a small voice.

Shouto closed his eyes. "Leave it alone, Izuku."

It took him too long to respond.

"You doing anything interesting this weekend?" Shouto asked, a rough note entering his voice that he hadn't meant.

"Oh…uh… well. Probably studying."

"Good idea," Shouto said.

Silence.

"You?"

"Hell, if I know."

"My card got declined today," Shouto said, tipping back a bottle.

Dabi raised an eyebrow. "What card?"

"Enji's."

"You for real?"

"Yeah."

Dabi sat back into the couch. "Wow."

Shouto took another swig.

"You still use his money?"

"Not really. I was taking Izuku out for ice cream yesterday. I gave out the card the on a whim."

"And nothing?"

"Nope."

Dabi opened his drawstring bag. "Never thought Pops would abandon you."

"Looks like you thought wrong."

Dabi's slow chuckle morphed into a hearty laugh. "Come on kid! Lighten up! You weren't ever going back anyway." He reached down into his bag and pulled out a wooden case. Popping it open, Dabi showed Shouto the contents. A pile of pure white powder. "First hit is on me."

"Thanks," Shouto said, pulling out his wallet out and rolling up a twenty-dollar bill.

"This is the good stuff too."

"Perfect."

His brother looked back up at him. "You still got enough cash for the rest of it?" he asked because he knew they sure as hell weren't stopping at one

"Course." What kind of stupid question was that? What else would Shouto spend his wages on?

Dabi grinned as he rolled up a fifty.

"There was some guy in yesterday that wanted to see you," Shinso said as Shouto pushed through the back door.

"Really?" Shouto asked, trying to muster even a little bit of interest.

"Yeah," his purple-haired coworker said.

"Where's your ball cap?" someone called from the storeroom. Mei.

"Forgot it at home."

"It's part of your uniform," Shinso told him.

"You care?"

The guy's tired eyes gave no indication either way.

"How long you've been working?"

"Long enough," Shinso said. Shouto didn't know for sure, he'd never asked, but he suspected the college aged Shinso was the breadwinner of his family. Guys like him weren't allowed to have dreams if it meant his brothers and sisters would starve.

Mei shouldered her way through the door, grinning through her uneven, pink hair. "I've got you covered, Shouto!"

"Do you?"

She winked at him. "I've got an extra hat in my bag! It can be yours for a low low price-"

"I'll pass," Shouto said. Mei, on the other hand, was only working to support her habit of thrifting around for random bullshit machine parts.

He grabbed a hideous red apron off a hook. The vomit inducing Baskets and Robins logo printed on the front was bad enough. Of course, he hadn't shown up with the hat.

"The guy was an ass," Shinso said.

"Who?" Shouto asked.

"The one that was looking for you."

Great.

Shouto wracked his brain for any debts he owed or anybody he'd pissed off. It wasn't Bakugo. Shinso would have told him if it was Bakugo. "What's the guy's name?"

"Iida or something."

"Iida?" He knew that name. Iida? Iida…

"Oh," Shouto said. "He's a friend of a friend."

"He didn't seem friendly," Shinso said. "He has a problem with you?"

"I've barely talked to him," Shouto said. He checked the schedule mounted on the wall. Drive through. Damn.

"Well, he seems like he really wants to talk to you."

"Did he say what about?"

"Nope," Shinso said. "But he's going to be back today."

Shouto whipped around. "You told him when my next shift was?"

"No, Hatsume did."

Of course, she did.

"You have any idea when he's going show up?" Shouto asked.

"No, but he seemed like the punctual type."

As if on cue, Mei called into the back. "Shouto's got a visitor!"

"Tell her I'm manning the drive-through," Shouto said to Shinso.

"Whatever." Shinso passed him and joined Mei in the front. After a moment, he came back.

"Well?" Shouto asked.

"He wants to know when you get off drive-through," Shinso said.

"Why? Is he going to wait?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

This was getting real annoying. He wasn't going to be able to concentrate knowing the Iida guy was sitting taking up table space in the front. "I'm going on break. Can you work the drive-through while I'm gone?"

"That's not really how breaks work," Shinso said. "You just got here."

"Thanks," Shouto said.

"Yeah."

He pushed past the purple-haired man. He didn't even have a clue what this was about. How did Iida even figure out he worked here? Jesus Christ.

He pulled on the apron string and tore it off.

"Take as long as you want!" Mei said as he got to the front. "Aizawa won't be in for another couple hours."

Shouto gave her a little nod. Aizawa was their manager. He was kind of a hardass, but what he didn't know wouldn't kill him.

"Todoroki," came the stiff voice. Shouto looked up. He'd been right. It was Izuku's solidly built friend.

"Do you need something from me?" Shouto asked.

"Just wanted to have a short conversation. Make sure a few things were clear between us."

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Telling Iida to fuck off might upset Izuku, so he decided to go along with it. "Sure," Shouto muttered, turning around.

"I'll grab a table." God, his voice was all formal and business-like. It was aggravating as hell.

He asked himself again, the hell did Iida want? But once he started thinking, Shouto was able to put it together before he'd circled halfway around the building.

Iida was sitting at a high table next to one of the far window. His sturdy black backpack sat at his feet. All sorts of little buttons lined the front, printed with all sorts of different anecdote, drawings, and logos. Only a few of them were familiar. The pride flag, obviously, and some bands jogged his memory. Izuku would probably be able to identify most or maybe all of them. He wondered why Izuku didn't have pins in his backpack.

Shouto slid into the seat. "What?"

Iida took a long moment to lock eyes before starting to speak. "I want you to stay away from Midoryia."

There it was.

Shouto brought his elbows up on the table and folded his fingers together. "Why?"

"You know why."

Shouto leaned forward. "Let's pretend that I don't."

Iida didn't budge an inch. "You could ruin his life."

Grinding teeth was bad. Stop. He'd had a lot of trouble with that when he'd first started using, but now he had it under control.

"I'm not anything to him," Shouto said. "He helps me with my essays."

"And then what?"

"That's none of your business."

Iida's eyes flashed. "You've got every right to throw your life away, but don't you dare drag him down with you."

He was gnashing his teeth now. "Shouldn't you be having this talk with him?"

"I have. He won't listen to me."

"That's how it is then," Shouto said. "Let it go."

He went to slide off the chair, but Iida lunged across the table and caught his arm. "You don't get it!" he cried. "He really cares about you. He'll do anything to be with you! You can't take advantage of that!"

Shouto yanked out of the guy's grip. "I'm not trying to fuck him or get him high. I'm just taking what he's offering me."

"He's offering his everything!"

"He's offering to help me with my _English homework_."

Iida balled his hands into fists.

"I won't tell Izuku about this shit, but that's mostly because I don't give a fuck." Shouto turned his back on Iida. "Don't come here again."

If looks could kill, Shouto would have been in the ground six months early. The whole duration of the next day's English class, Shouto could feel Iida and his girlfriend's glares drilling holes into the back of his head. Was this what the rest of the semester going to be like from now on? Wonderful. Izuku sat between the two of them like always, so Shouto was sure he could sense his friends' evil eyes. He wondered if he'd even see Izuku today, or ever again. Oh well. He'd learned a lot in the five weeks they'd studied together. He'd be able to get by on that.

He frowned.

Still, he liked hanging around Izuku. The time he spent was the green-haired boy didn't run together, and it wasn't so overwhelming that he found himself unable to breath. He felt almost sober when he was beside Izuku, and that was almost okay.

But of course, it'd have to end sometime. Happiness had never lingered long in Shouto's life.

Class ended.

He waited for the rest of the class to file out, fiddling and flipping through the notes Izuku had made for him. When he looked up, though, Izuku hadn't left. Neither had Iida or his girlfriend. He glanced over. Were they arguing? They were definitely arguing.

Izuku looked back at him.

Shouto felt words rising inside of him. A question.

In that moment, Izuku burst up and started walking toward him. Shouto's eyes widened a fraction with every step Izuku took. The boy skidded to a stop a yard away from him. His eyes were closed, and his arms were wrapped around himself.

"Are we going?" he asked in the barest whisper.

Shouto stared at him for a long second before his mouth formed words. "Sure."

Izuku nodded quickly before stalking off. Shouto looked from Izuku's back to his two friends' horrified expressions. It was those fucking expressions that pushed him forward. What was Shouto? A monster? He wanted to clock the both of them.

Instead, he followed Izuku.

The green-haired boy was already half way down the hallway when Shouto made it out of the classroom. "Izuku!" he called.

The boy jerked his head around.

Shouto jogged up. "Look Izuku," he said. "Don't-"

"I'm so sorry!" Izuku cried, raising a hand to his mouth.

Maybe Shouto should have told him that his friends only wanted what they thought was best for him, but he didn't feel like making excuses. "I don't care about it," he said. "Forget about it. Let's just walk."

But even as they started to move, Izuku couldn't stop himself from speaking. "They're just being so weird about it!"

Shouto didn't respond.

In the end, neither of them led each other toward the library. Their feet took guided them out the building and through the campus fields. After a while, Izuku started to look around. A minute later, he took a sharp turn down a path. They didn't say anything. Izuku had too many thoughts swirling in his mind just then, and Shouto didn't have a clue what a one of them was.

They found themselves on the north side of campus, far away from the parking lot. Izuku slowed to a stop in front of a bench and fell into it. Shouto stood in front of him, waiting.

"I don't understand," he said, propping his elbows up on his thighs. "They're good people, I promise!"

"I guess."

Midoryia took off his glasses and folded them up in his hands. "I don't understand."

"It's not complicated," Shouto said. "They don't like me. That's it."

"They haven't given you a chance," Izuku exclaimed. "There are plenty of things to like about you!"

Shouto let out a breath through his nose. "Right."

"There are! So many things!" Izuku held up a hand and started ticking off his fingers. "You're honest. You're responsible and kind and strong and so many other things!"

"None of that is true."

"Yes, it is! And that's why…" Izuku suddenly cut himself off, cheeks almost catching fire. Still, he did his best to keep his voice steady and eyes locked on Shouto's. "And that's why I like you, Shouto!"

Silence

A rubber band snapped in Shouto and all his faith in Izuku's intelligence shattered.

Shouto grabbed Izuku's forearm and yanked him to his feet. Izuku made a small strangled sound in the back of his throat, but Shouto ignored it as he dragged Izuku backward toward the nearest building.

"I'm S-" but Shouto didn't give him time to speak. He spun and took hold of both of Izuku's wrists. He met Izuku's bright green irises as he backed the boy into the space between two buildings. Then he threw him against the redbrick wall.

"aH?" Izuku squeaked in surprise as his back hit the side of the building.

"Is that really what you think you like about me?" Shouto asked, leaning in close. His lips brushed the top of Izuku's left ear, breathing in the scent of Izuku's shampoo.

"W-Well-"

Shouto let his tongue dart out and taste a patch of skin before pulling away to capture Izuku's eyes again. Izuku couldn't keep his gaze. His eyes darted down the length of Shouto's body faster than his face flushed red.

"Somebody's going to see us," he mumbled.

"This part of campus is deserted after three. You know that," Shouto said. "Classes have been in session for ten minutes now. Nobody's going to see a thing. That's exactly why you led us here, isn't it?"

Izuku bit down hard on his lip. He opened and closed his fists but didn't try to yank away.

"I'll tell you why your friends don't like me," Shouto said, voice dipping low. "It's not because I'm twenty years old but not enrolled in a four-year college. Not because I have these tattoos. Not because I wear heavy eye makeup. Not because I drive a motorcycle? Is that what you think?" Shouto shook his head. "Maybe some of it is about my age-"

"That's got nothing to do with anything!" Izuku exclaimed. "It barely matters-"

"Don't go there, Izuku. Besides, it's probably got more to do with what's in my bag."

"What?"

Shouto released one of his hands. "Flip open the top of my bag."

Izuku nodded. He reached and slipped his left hand into the messenger bag hanging off Shouto's shoulder.

"Look for a half-filled plastic baggy," Shouto said.

"I can't see in there."

"You'll feel it."

Another moment.

"Is there a mirror in here?"

"Don't worry about that."

Another moment.

"Got it."

"Take it out very carefully."

Izuku slowly raised his hand out of the bag. In his fingers was a triple bagged four ounces of snow white powder.

"What do you think that is?" Shouto asked, as patient as a grade school teacher.

"C-cocaine?" he asked, keeping up a crumbling brave face.

"Methamphetamines."

"Oh…"

"You can put it back now."

Izuku dropped it back in his bag.

"Look," Shouto said. He raised a hand to cup Izuku's cheek, running a thumb along his cheekbone. "You're too kind. The two of them are right. I'm no good for nothing."

"That's a double negative," Izuku muttered.

"What?"

Izuku let his eyes flutter closed, rolling his head into Shouto's hand. He pitched his voice louder this time. "I want to be with you."

Shouto let his thumb dip lower to catch Izuku's bottom lip. "If you weren't so cute, I wouldn't be putting up with this shit."

"I don't care," Izuku whispered against his thumb. "I don't care."

Shouto sighed.

Izuku opened his eyes again, nervous but sure. "You can touch me if you want."

Shouto squeezed the wrist he still held against the wall. "Where?"

Izuku closed his lips around Shouto's finger. A kiss. "Anywhere."

This was wrong. Izuku wasn't the kind of boy Shouto deserved to have. Despite that, here Izuku was, standing in front of him with bedroom eyes. And it was true, Shouto wasn't exactly good at controlling his impulses.

Shouto let go of Izuku's other hand and used it to cup the other side of Izuku's face. Surging forward, he stole Izuku's lips.

Izuku threw his arms around him.

Seven minutes later, Shouto was hit with the realization that he was making the biggest mistake of Izuku's life.

He pulled away from Izuku's soft lips, bright red and shiny from his kisses. Those green eyes were wide and delirious with hope and want. What was Shouto doing? He need to take his hands out from under Izuku's shirt, take his leg away from the space between Izuku's thighs. What was he doing?

"Shouto," Izuku whispered.

"This is a bad idea," Shouto murmured, leaning into the boy's neck.

"Take me back to your apartment," Izuku murmured against his jaw.

"No way."

"It's okay if it's you," Izuku coaxed. His hands were resting along Shouto's waste, thumbs circling his hip bones. God, he wanted to tear this boy's jeans off.

"What makes you think you can say that?" Shouto said.

Izuku's voice took on a note of desperation. "If it's because you're an adult, don't worry about it! The age of consent is sixteen in Maryland! We cross the state line and it's perfectly legal!"

Yeah, Shouto didn't think that was how it worked. "Even if that is true," Shouto said, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair out of Izuku's face. "How can you imagine something happening here?"

"It can if we want it," Izuku insisted.

Shouto let his hand settle on the back of Izuku's neck. Poor boy. He was probably thought that, as long as he worked hard enough, anything could be his. It was fucking tragic, especially because when his eyes were so certain, Shouto almost found himself believe it was true.


End file.
